it were what she always thought of as another room of her childhood home.
She would get dressed and in makeup in her office once all the last touches were in place. For the time being she was in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt and wore sneakers as she rearranged some of the bouquets and floral baskets while making sure all the descriptions and associated materials with each piece were free of errors.
The caterers and bar staff had arrived and were beginning to get set up when she finished up all she could do for the event.
Maybe knocked on the door of Cora’s office not thirty seconds after she’d gotten her clothes and accessories for the night laid out. “I brought you a coffee,” Maybe told her, kissing her cheek as she handed the travel mug over.
Her friend was not only a fantastic hairdresser and barber, she also did makeup for her friends on special occasions. Maybe had shown up with her case, ready to work.
“You’re my favorite,” Cora said as she got into the chair.
“Naturally. You can tell me about the pumpkin patch and the sex you had afterward while I’m doing your hair.”
“How the hell do you know we had sex?” Cora looked at herself in the mirror, carefully making sure she hadn’t missed a love bite or something embarrassing.
“You have the glow. Your hair is looking fantastic. It’s got sex volume. And you didn’t deny it immediately. Also, you seemed pretty hot for one another and so it was a natural assumption.”
Maybe began to do her magic on Cora’s hair while she sipped her coffee and sighed happily.
“He was cute at the pumpkin patch. He pulled the wagon without complaint. Then he made me three different kinds of tacos while I decorated. Then we had terrific sex. Like stick your finger in a light socket electric sex. And in the afterglow what do you think we did?”
“Ate more tacos?”
Cora sighed. “I hadn’t even thought of that. Hell, eating more tacos totally would have been a wise choice. But no, after he fucked me silly, he helped me with some of my pumpkins. We even carved some before I had to leave to get here. Oh, and he’s coming tonight.”
Cora kept her eyes closed as Maybe worked. Pinning, curling and spraying her hair before moving on to makeup. At some point, Rachel arrived and Cora recounted the same story, catching her up.
“He’ll be more comfortable because he knows everyone already except for Beto and Finley.” It was less pressure that way. If, for whatever reason, he hit his limit on Cora time, or their chemistry cooled or soured, there’d be other people around to make it easier to avoid one another.
“Finley is curious about him. She’s done some internet sleuthing so be ready for all her questions about his, um, more colorful days,” Rachel said of Cora’s sister.
“She runs a tattoo shop. She’s around colorful people all day long. Hell, she is one.”
“Don’t get defensive. She loves you and you’re the baby,” Rachel reminded her.
She didn’t want that feeling lodged in her gut just then. Resentment and maybe a little bitterness. She adored Finley, who’d always been there for her. But if she was so concerned, why not help with their mom?
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. He’s charming. And it’s not like I’m harvesting his organs for dinner or anything. We’re just having fun,” Cora said.
“Hold your breath I’m getting ready to set your hair with spray,” Maybe told Cora.
They helped her get into the dress without smearing makeup, mussing hair or getting deodorant on anything. A bonus was the way the high neck and illusion panel on the front accentuated her boobs without having them in danger of falling out of anything.
It was a grown-up, sexy dress and she couldn’t deny she chose it with Beau in mind.
“Dayum, baby. You lookin’ good,” Maybe said as she circled Cora slowly.
The three friends laughed as they headed out to the main gallery floor where the candles were lit, the wine had been decanted and music played in the background.
It smelled like cinnamon and oranges so she knew her brother was around somewhere, a mug of Market Spice tea in his hand. She followed her nose and found him setting that cup of tea down so he could open the doors for their parents as they approached the gallery.
Before she could head to them, Finley stepped into her path. Her sister wore an amazing jumpsuit that would have looked awful on most other people. Her forearms and chest were mainly bare, all her ink on display. Her dark brown hair was pulled away from her face into a loose knot at the base of her neck.
Finley was unique. She had an edge, but she put makeup on it, winged its eyeliner and used her tattoos like jewelry. Her sister was a badass. Gorgeous. Fierce and deeply thoughtful. Her artistic nature was the closest to control freak of the sisters.
She loved hard, including her family. They weren’t perfect. The Silveras could be total assholes to one another. But their connection was bone deep. Their commitment and loyalty to the family was something Cora never doubted.
“So. Where’s the dude?” Finley looked around before settling back on Cora. “Oh, and you look particularly dishy tonight.”
“I clean up okay,” Cora told her. “Digging that jumpsuit. We need to go shopping soon. As for Beau, I told him not to show up until after eight. I think he’s going to check in with Gregori and Wren since they’ll be here tonight too.”
When Cora took a look around the space, she noticed immediately that her mother had begun to move things around, and at first, Cora stood, furiously stock-still. Walda had nothing to do with the gallery events by that point and hadn’t for several years. She knew nothing about what hung on the walls. But that didn’t stop her from coming in and fucking shit up because why not? Her mom always wanted her way.
Clearly, it was obvious to her friends because Rachel sighed, getting Cora’s attention back. “You’re going to pop a vein,” Rachel said, pushing her toward Walda. “This is your gallery. Your event. You’d never let anyone else do this. I’m not saying you should punch her in the face,” she snorted. “Just be in charge. You got this.”
Finley sighed before linking her arm through Cora’s. “She’s right. If you don’t stop Mom now, she’ll only get worse. You know how she is.”
Maybe cocked her head, saying nothing but lending her support with a smile.
“You stay here,” Cora told her sister. For a long time Finley had worked really hard to get their mother’s attention and affection. She’d been the bridge between the older two kids and Cora and Beto. Their oldest sister’s lieutenant when their mom was focused elsewhere. Cora had watched over and over as their mother took things for granted or her attention wandered. She did say thank you from time to time, but that need for approval had never been filled completely.
The energy between Finley and their mother was often tense because their mom either just didn’t get it, or overreacted to something, launching a passive-aggressive period that blew up into an argument.
And then Cora would have to fix it.
She
